


that awkward moment when your parents bang and you happen to hear it

by mistellation



Category: Villains Series - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Asexual Victor Vale, Eli Ever | Eli Cardale - mentioned, M/M, Sex- Neutral, blowjob, but i didn't dwell on it bc that's for another time, mentions of victor's intermittent deaths, porny but not much, set somewhere between Vicious and Vengeful, so much to unpack in these books lmao, very brief cameo of Dominic Rusher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistellation/pseuds/mistellation
Summary: sydney had stopped paying attention, distracted by the internal struggle of being part of a group of ex-convicts, an alcoholic ex-soldier, and a resurrected dog when she heard it.a beat of silence. heart pounding, sydney paused the documentary. were the guys awake?there it was again. this time, sydney heard the noise clearly.it was a moan.or, sydney is awake when she shouldn’t be and hears things she shouldn’t hear, but it’s her own fault for being a rebellious teen.at least victor and mitch have their fun.
Relationships: Mitchell "Mitch" Turner/Victor Vale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	that awkward moment when your parents bang and you happen to hear it

truth be told, victor and mitch hadn’t established many rules. maybe the fact that none of them had really planned to be responsible for a thirteen-year-old girl had something to do with how unprepared they were, but there were basic warnings: don’t draw attention to yourself; don’t walk too far without telling us; _don’t_ go out at night. 

it was fair enough. but “don’t go out at night” was not “don’t stay up all night watching documentaries”. so, technically, sydney wasn’t breaking the rules. and, technically, there weren’t even rules to break. 

dol was breathing evenly, curled up on the bed with her, propping the ipad upright while the documentary played on. this one was about serial killers, and it reminded her of victor somehow, but at the same time she couldn’t picture victor featuring one of these documentaries, analysed to the detail, with the occasional interview in case the criminal still lived. she didn’t know if it was because she thought victor too smart to be caught or if she was too attached to him to really call him a serial killer. 

he was more of an occasional murderer. just if it was totally necessary. 

sydney had stopped paying attention, distracted by the internal struggle of being part of a group of ex-convicts, an alcoholic ex-soldier, and a resurrected dog when she heard it. 

a beat of silence. heart pounding, sydney paused the documentary. were the guys awake? she hadn’t been using earbuds because they made her ears hurt, but she had turned the volume to the lowest and turned on the captions; it was improbable they had heard the documentary all the way down the hall. 

she locked the screen. would victor scold her? somehow, sydney couldn’t picture him doing that despite having no problem bringing back the memory of him killing that cop. 

_well, scolding me is not elementary for our survival, so_ —

there it was again. this time, sydney heard the noise clearly. 

it was a moan. 

she flushed dark red on reflex. to her teenage mind, moans were scandalous and embarrassing and—

she sat up on the bed. maybe something was wrong. had victor cut his hand with glass again? she discarded the idea instantly. if victor had hurt himself, he would have dialled his pain down already. and the voice hadn’t quite sounded like victor’s. 

(how she can tell victor’s voice from mitch’s after only a couple of months of knowing them was something to unpack at a less ungodly hour.)

there was one more moan and this time it was undoubtedly mitch’s voice. sydney’s blood rushed to her face, and she didn’t understand why until her brain registered it: mitch had moaned a name. 

_victor_.

pulling the comforter over her head, sydney resisted the urge to whine to drown out the sound and pretend this wasn’t happening. were mitch and victor even _together_ ? as in, a thing? sure enough, they had seemed close and comfortable around each other, but as far as sydney knew, they had been cellmates for five years _and_ broken out of prison together. it kinda made sense if they were that kind of _together_. 

just _why_ did she have to listen to— to— 

sydney whined quietly, making dol rustle beside her. she didn’t want to think of what was going on down the hallway. blindly, without emerging from beneath the comforter, sydney reached for the earbuds on the nightstand and pressed play hurriedly. 

if she had been sound asleep like she was supposed to be, she thought bitterly, heart loud over the narrator’s voice, she would have saved whatever little amount of innocence she had left. 

meanwhile, down the hallway, behind a closed door, mitch felt hot and heavy and soft on victor’s tongue. the first time, victor had thought it would be at least a bit gross, like when you bit a lemon slice knowing it would make your whole face scrunch up, but it didn’t feel disgusting. mitch tasted salty, the skin silky as victor dragged his tongue alongside the length. 

mitch’s head dropped back and he managed to only sigh quietly. 

victor was satisfied. lately, mitch didn’t take any of his crap, the initial fear turned into respect, and then into familiarity, and then he was no longer for victor to control. 

it was fine. victor hollowed out his cheeks around mitch and watched his hips stutter upwards. he could enjoy this kind of control. 

mitch knew victor wasn’t taking sexual gratification from this, of course. he didn’t really understand what was the difference between feeling sexual desire or not if victor was okay with sex anyway, and that often led to mistakes, like assuming victor wouldn’t want to play. 

but _oh_ , did victor always want to play. it was like a personal challenge. it had been harder in jail, what with the lack of doors, and hence privacy, but victor vale wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. 

again, it was fine. this, having mitch throb in his mouth, a massive man as he was, squirming under victor without the need to use his powers, was more gratifying than any physical pleasure mitch could offer him in return. 

“you’re doing so good,” mitch rumbled, and the way he managed to not sound as breathless as he was ignited a spark of competitiveness in victor’s chest. 

he slid down unexpectedly, throat opening up. mitch gasped, and victor felt the world go back to its rightful balance. 

mitch’s dick bumped the back of his throat lightly and victor withdrew to avoid the gag reflex from striking, switching to stroking him with his hand as he took a small break. 

he gazed over at mitch, pretending he hadn’t been paying close attention. his brown skin had darkened in the last few minutes, and victor smirked. he liked seeing mitch’s body flush beneath all the ink, especially if he was the cause.

unexpectedly, he loved making mitch feel like this. it felt like a win, like now eli wasn’t one step over him. he’d had angie back at university, had _stolen_ her from victor, but it didn’t matter anymore. now victor had someone who blushed for him, someone who moaned his name late at night and helped him break into the police database in the day, and eli could go screw himself over. 

_actually_ , victor thought distractedly, ghosting his fingers across mitch’s inner thigh, _wait for me, and i’ll screw you over myself._

deep down, victor knew it was messed up that he was thinking of being better than eli, of _crushing him_ , while giving mitch head, but messed up was kind of victor’s thing.

then mitch’s thighs tensed and victor almost forgot about eli. 

gripping the pillow under his head, mitch locked gazes. 

“vic—”

feeling bold, victor lowered himself and, surrounding the head with his warm mouth again, licked at the slit teasingly.

he moved away in time to avoid the ropes of cum, catching them with his hand as he leaned in to nip at mitch’s thigh as he rode his orgasm. 

mitch always came quietly. it was as if he held his breath, legs spasming, and then let out any residual energy with a long sigh. it just figures one learns how to be quiet in prison. 

victor got up to go wash his hands and brush his teeth, still fully dressed. when he got back, mitch had draped an arm over his face, breathing evenly. 

now that it was over, victor felt the need to fidget, to pace across the room, to _not stay still, not die, not die, not die_ —

mitch dropped his arm and gave him a once over. “not in the mood tonight?”

victor looked down at himself, feigning surprise at not finding himself sporting a boner. 

“oh, it’s not you,” he said lightly, opening his eyes wide in mockery, “i’d just rather go for a piece of cake right now.”

mitch’s smile widened. 

sometimes, victor would get hot and bothered in a way mitch could fix for him, something that didn’t involve killing or scheming. it had taken a fair amount of prying to get victor to talk aloud about his asexuality and explain that _yes_ , sex was fine, just _no_ , he didn’t crave it. and the fact that victor still didn’t enjoy being touched that much had little to do with his asexuality and more to do with eli. but touching mitch was nice, always satisfying, always distracting, and it seemed mitch didn’t mind the fun that much either.

mitch started to sit up, reaching for his underwear, and victor leaned against the wall nonchalantly. 

“want to stay?”

a quick glance to the clock and mitch sat back down, ass and thighs now clad in black. it was not often that victor wanted to sleep in the same bed. his nightmares were still a problem, making him turn up the pain dial unconsciously. now that they were not _forced_ to sleep in the same room, victor often preferred to avoid the risk of hurting mitch… again. it was a double problem because mitch could tell victor had always been starving for attention, for affection, for anything that made him feel wanted, but sleeping meant not being in control, and victor couldn’t handle not being in control. 

having hurt both sydney and mitch that first night they picked her up hadn’t helped. surprisingly, the girl had not been scared out of her mind of him afterwards, but it bugged victor. 

“you’ll let me spoon you now?” mitch whispered, sure that speaking any louder would let the laughter in his chest be heard. his trip to the bathroom to wash up had left him smelling of soap, skin fresh and soft.

victor, already laying with his back to mitch, elbowed him in the stomach without any real heat. 

“if i feel the uncontrollable need to turn into cutlery, you’ll be the first to know.”

after a few seconds, victor inched closer on his own accord, and mitch smiled. 

“night, vic.”

“sleep tight, mitchell.”

in the morning, sydney looked so red in the face that victor forced her to stay still so he could check her temperature. after a bit of mumbling under her breath and stuttering, she squared her shoulders and declared, “it’s cool that you’re some kind of bonnie and clyde, but it’d be cooler if you took into account how thin these walls are.”

by the time dominic dropped by to report to victor, both sydney and mitch were red-faced and jumpy, victor looking unusually smug. dominic really didn’t want to know.

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> i've had this idea in my head for a whole year now, but i didn't feel confident enough to share until i realized that there are not enough mitch/victor fics out there. and i hadn't realized how personal this fic was for me until i had to rewrite it ~~because i lost the first draft~~ , so here, have a piece of my heart. i hope it's not the last thing i write about them because i fucking love this family.
> 
> thanks to mars for encouraging me and proofreading it<3


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